Ready To KickAss
by Toonster9
Summary: Cody Lizewski is an unnoticed high school student and comic book fan who one day decides to become a super-hero, even though he has no powers, training or meaningful reason to do so.
1. Chapter 1: Be a Hero

_**Declaimer:** I do not own the characters from the Total Drama Series and blah, blah. Anyway here's a fic that me and RGZ Archer discussed. It's a parody of you-know-what. If you like it, choose a character from the Total Drama Series and create a superhero name for them. Create a background and tell me their origin of why they became heroes or vigilantes. I'll make sure to put a role for them. P.S. Don't choose Duncan and Courtney, because I already got a role for them. If you want me to continue this story, review and tell me what you think. Enjoy._

**CHAPTER 1: Be a Hero**

New York's Skyline, Day:

It's a wide clear city in which you could be forgiving for failing to spot a tiny, brightly-clothed figure on one of the rooftops. We hear the voice of our hero.

'_I always wondered why nobody did it __before me. I mean, all those comic __books. Movies. TV shows...You'd __think that one eccentric loner __would have made himself a costume_.'

A young man in a superhero costume is perilously near the edge of the rooftop, striking an iconic pose. With cool resolve, he slips a pair of goggles into position.

_'Is everyday life really so __exciting, are schools and offices __so thrilling, that I'm the only one __who ever fantasized about this?'_

He spreads his arms to reveal his cool and awesome mechanical wings. He takes a deep breath and calmly dives off the roof.

'_C'mon. Be honest with yourself...At some point in our lives, we all wanted to be a superhero_.'

The wanna-be superhero has a smile on his face. A beautiful open vista of concrete and glass window reflecting the low sun. It's amazing. It's bravery. He's in flight...Oh wait...No he's not. His smile fades into a terrified expression. This isn't flying...it's just a good old-fashioned falling to his death thing.

"FUUUUCK!" The wanna-be superhero screams. Below the ground, pedestrians become aware of his impending approach. They all look up, pointing and screaming at the falling dumbass hero. Everyone were using their camera phones and some were running to safety. The wanna-be superhero falls towards a parked taxi car. _**CRASH! **_It crumples like a paper.

The car alarm strikes up over the crowd noise. Is he okay?...No! Of course he's fucking dead! Look at him. He's not even moving an inch, so we all know that he's in hell now! Anyway, the people didn't need to look closer to be sure if the young man in the costume is dead.

'_Umm...That's not me, by the way. That's __some Armenian guy with a history of __mental health problems. On the __news, his sister said he read about __me in the New York Post. Who am I?...I'm Kick-Ass.' _

_Fanfiction Presents:_

_A Parody of the comic book/movie Kick-Ass:_

_An Idea By RGZ Archer:_

_Another Toonster9's Fic:_

**_~~Ready to Kick-Ass~~_**

**Six Months Earlier...**

Jersey City, High School, Morning:

The school is a huge, antiquated building as an a ghetto place. Different group of students mill around outside. A bunch of jocks fake fighting. Some students getting high behind a tree. Some are sitting on the grass. An overweight girl eating Egg McMuffins in secret in her car. A car pulls up and out climbs high school senior Cody Lizewski (17, slim body, not quite Napoleon Dynamite-looking, but not quite Zac Efron-looking either).

'_That's __me. Back before any of this crazy shit happened. Back when you'd have to be a lot crazier than that guy to try and be like me instead of killing yourself_. _I guess I was the last person you'd expect to become a superhero_' Cody turns to the car and waves goodbye to his father, Mr. Lizewski, who is driving away.

"Later, Dad." Cody said, watching his father drive off. Then he sets off towards the school entrance with a beat look on his face.

'_Not saying there was anything wrong with me but there was nothing special, either. Just that you'd have had a hard time finding a hook. I mean, I wasn't into sports..._' He strolls past a brace of Soccer-Team Girls kicking a ball. The soccer ball rolls towards him. Cody hard-kicked the ball, trying to send it back but it flew out of the school which made the girls mad. Cody gives an apologetic smile and walks on, embarrassed.

Later, In the High School Entrance:

Cody joins the back of a line of kids , all waiting to pass one by one through a Metal Detector Archway.

'_I wasn't a mathlete..._' Three nice kids where ahead of him of the line, chatting and laughing. Cody enters the hallway, passing a group of gamers playing their PSPs, IPhones and Nintendo DS.

'_Or a hard-core gamer. I wasn't the type of guy who plays Call of Duty all day, so don't judge me._' Cody passes a group of four skinny, pierced emos leaning against the lockers, who are shooting daggers at other students walking by.

'_I didn't have a piercing, or an eating disorder, or three thousands friends on MySpace or Facebook_' Cody walks pass a group of hot girls, doing their makeup or texting their phones.

'_My only superpower was being invisible to girls_.' Cody walks up to a tall geek kid wearing glasses, who we'll come to know as Harold, dancing through the archway doing the Soulja Boy dance. His other friend, who wears baggy pants and a beanie name Ezekiel, is watching Harold dance. Cody walks up to them and hi-fives both of them.

'_And out of my stupid friends, man, I wasn't even the funny one. Like most people my age, I just existed._' The three of them walks towards the hallway. Then the school bell **_RINGS! _**Cody waves goodbye to his friends and walks to his classroom. Everyone in the hallway hurries to their class.

Later, Cody and others scramble into their seats. The teacher, Mrs Zane (40, A slightly hot chubby borderline milf) comes in the classroom, holding a binder. She takes off her jacket. She's now wearing a red tank top that exposes her cleavage. Cody was pervertedly starring at her body figure. He's imagining her staring right at him and takes off her blouse. She reaches back to unhook her bra which made Cody drool.

'_Kick in my bedroom door and you'd probably find me watching TV. Or talking to my friend Ezekiel on Skype. Or jerking off. Mostly to my English teacher_. _Sure, a lot of what got me through the average school day was making deposits in the wack-off warehouse for later_. _Though, to be honest, it didn't __take much to set me off. I tell you, when my hormones balance out, shares in Kleenex are gonna take a dive, man_. _I had problems_.'

Back to reality, Mrs Zane takes her seat and leans forward to put down her purse. She catches Cody looking at her boobs.

"Cody Lizewski. You might want to be looking at _Hamlet_ right about now?" Mrs Zane asked, with a smirk. Cody snaps back to reality and becomes completely flustered with a blush.

"Oh, yes Mrs. Zane. Sorry." Cody muttered, embarrassed. Mrs Zane flashes a playful mock-stern frown, then an amused smile, before looking away. Okay the truth is, she is flattered. Cody looks down at his book.

Later, Cody walks the crowded corridor, eyes fixed on a strikingly cute Asian girl who is fumbling in her locker.

'_But don't get me wrong. I liked girls my own age, too. Especially Heather Deauxma_.' Cody walks up to his locker next to hers, getting a little bit nervous. Heather looks up and breaks into a broad smile.

"Hey gorgeous!" Heather greeted, playfully. Cody can't believe what he's hearing. He can barely contain his smile.

"Hey." Cody greeted, keeping his cool. Heather claps her hand over her mouth, and, hearing a bark of laughter from behind him, Cody wheels round to see the person Heather was actually addressing to. Her best friend Lindsay Bell. Cody was extremely flustered, mortified, embarrassed...Oh sorry and totally in panic-mode.

"Oh. No, you meant Lindsay. Um-I know. I-I knew that, heh. You were...I was just kidding. I-I knew you didn't...Okay cool. See ya-um, okay." Cody mumbled, hesitatingly. Cody exhales and hurries away the awkward moment. Behind him, Heather and Lindsay clutch each other in helpless laughter as Heather dies in of embarrassment.

Later in the Cafeteria, Cody and his friends are sitting at a table, eating together. Harold uses a slice of bread with a bitten-hole in the middle.

"Hey. Look, I'm Ezekiel's mom." Harold said, playfully licking through the hole of the bread. Ezekiel chuckles for the joke. Cody grabs two boiled eggs and lift them up.

"That's funny. This is your dad." Cody said, playfully shoving both of the eggs in his mouth and chews them. Ezekiel and Harold laugh for the joke.

"No, that's still my mom, actually." Harold corrected, playfully while chuckling. Suddenly, one of the jocks, who were sitting behind them, throws a soccer ball at their table. Launching their food everywhere.

"What the fuck, gosh!" Harold exclaimed, annoyed. The jocks were laughing at them hysterically and they hi-fives each other.

'_I was just a regular guy._'

**The Next Day...I Guess**

Inside Cody's House, Kitchen, Morning:

'_No_ _radioactive spiders. No refugee status from a doomed alien world._' Cody sits at a table with his Dad and his Mom. They are all eating cereal. Cody morosely pours himself a bowl of Corn Puffs.

"You know what? Ezekiel said they do still make Count Chocula. They just sell it at the store anymore." Cody informed, conferring with his parents. Suddenly, Cody's mom unexpectedly slumps forward onto the table. Her bowl of cereal **_CRASHES! _**to the floor, the spilled corn puffs bouncing iconically around the floor like the pearls from Martha Wayne's broken necklace (Batman's mom, FYI)

"Mom?" Cody asked, wondering why she's resting her head on the table.

'_My mother was killed by an aneurysm in the kitchen, as opposed to a gunman in an alley..._'

**A Hero is Born...**

Around a Grave-Yard, Dark Stormy Night:

Cody was starring down at his mother's gravestone, dripping wet and depressed. Behind him, the New York skyline just visible through a fierce storm, rain pouring as hell. His fists aloft, looking up at the dark clouds. Having the revenge look on his face.

'_So if you were hoping for any..._'

"I will avenge you, mother!" Cody rages at the heavens through the thunder and lighting, deadly serious.

'_...You're outta luck._'

**Oh, Nevermind...**

Cody's House, Kitchen, Morning:

Cody and his Dad are at the table, both eating cereal of Count Chocula. The expression on their faces seems that they both look like they moved on after the mother past away.

'_In fact, in the eighteen months since my mother died, the only epiphany I had was realizing that, like it or not, life just goes on._' Cody and his Dad were studying the cereal box in front of them.

"They never had so many mallow pieces when I was a kid." Mr. Lizewski muttered, breaking the silence. Cody nodded while finishing his bowl.

"Oh." Cody responded, with his mouth full. Mr. Lizewski pulls out something from his back pocket and clears his throat to get Cody's attention. Cody turns to him with a questioning look.

"I have something for you." Mr. Lizewski added. He hands Cody three movie tickets. Cody lights up, grabbing the tickets. He stares at them, widen his eyes in surprised.

"Iron Man 2! Thursday? At the IMax Theater! Dad, you officially rock! Wait, don't you got a shift Thursday night? And who's third ticket is this?" Cody asked, out of curiosity. Mr. Lizewski rolled his eyes and chuckles.

"They're for you and your friends. I knew you'll love it." Mr. Lizewskin said, patting his son on the back. Cody shoots him an appreciated smile.

**Meanwhile...**

Inside The Comic Book Store, Day:

A place for a nerd or fanboy's dream. Two storeys of comic books, action figure toys and collectibles, with a coffee-shop concession. Cody, Harold and Ezekiel are there, sitting at a table together, chatting and drinking frappucinos. Cody was pondering about something.

"How come nobody's ever tried to be a superhero." Cody asked, wondering. Harold rolled his eyes while reading his comic book.

"Gee, I dunno. Probably 'cause it's fucking impossible, dipshit." Harold answered, sarcastically. Ezekiel was snickering while reading his own comic book. Cody shoots Harold an annoyed look.

"What, putting on a mask and helping people? How is that impossible?" Cody asked, serious. Harold and Ezekiel put down their comic books and decided to discuss Cody's disturbed question.

"That's not superhero, though. How is that super, eh? Super's like being stronger than everybody and flying and shit, eh. That's just hero you're speaking." Ezekiel pointed out. Harold nodded in agreement while Cody groans in frustration.

"No, it's not even hero. It's just friggin' psycho, gosh." Harold added. Cody rolled his eyes.

"Hello? Bruce Wayne? He didn't have any powers." Cody assured, trying to make a point. Ezekiel chuckles at Cody's expression.

"Yes, but he had all the expensive shit that doesn't exist. I mean, a glider? Pfft, who invented that?" Ezekiel asked, playfully. Cody ponders at the inventor.

"I think his name was Leonardo Deja Vu or Dicaprio?" Cody guessed, still thinking about the name. Harold rolled his eyes and stares at them like they were very stupid.

"It's Leonardo Da Vinci, dumbasses." Harold corrected. Ezekiel waves it off, getting back to the conversation.

"Whatever, I thought you meant, like how come nobody does it in real life." Ezekiel said. Cody shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I mean that." Cody muttered with sigh.

"C'mon. Anyone who did it for real would get their ass kicked. They'd be dead in like, a day." Harold explained, disturbed.

"Yeah, okay, I'm not saying they should do it. I just can't figure out why nobody does. Seriously, out of all the million people who love superheroes, you'd think at least one would give it a try. All those mid-life crisis guys in the guitar store, they're never gonna be rockstars, but it doesn't stop 'em buying guitars." Cody pointed out. Harold and Ezekiel both shrugged their shoulders.

"Meh." Harold mumbled, carelessly.

"Yeah, I guess." Ezekiel responded, sounding less convinced. Cody rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

"Jesus, doesn't it bug you? Why do thousands of people wanna be Paris Hilton, and nobody wants to be Spider-Man?" Cody asked, annoyed. Harold and Ezekiel got interested at the question.

"Yeah, what's with that? She has, like, no tits. None at all." Harold said, imitating Hilton's chest. Ezekiel ponders at the question too.

"Maybe it's the porn tape. He doesn't have a porn tape." Ezekiel answered the differences.

"You guys never saw _One Night in Spider-Man_?" Harold joked, playfully. They all crack up, hysterically for the joke. But suddenly, Ezekiel is distracted.

"Holly shit, check out the wheels, eh." Ezekiel said, nodding over to the storefront window. Cody and Harold follows Ezekiel's gaze. A huge black stretch S-class Mercedes has pulled up outside. They all recognize the parked vehicle.

"Looks like Mr. D'Amico traded in the hummer." Cody muttered, amazed. Ezekiel shakes his head in response.

"Nah. He probably kept it. And has, like, both?" Ezekiel said, wondering. They all watch the car, waiting for someone to come out. A teenage boy climbs out of the Mercedes...Noah D'Amico (17, rich and self-conscious). He takes a moment to take his composure and shuffles in the store, followed by a large body guard name Chef. Noah begins to browse a rack of comics, sneaking a look over at Cody and his friends before looking hurriedly away.

"Is it me, or do you feel kinda sorry for Noah D'Amico?" Cody asked, under his breath so Noah can't hear. Harold rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Yeah. Whoa. Must be terrible to have a rich and powerful Dad and everything you want. In fact, I wish you hadn't brought it up. I think I'm gonna cry." Harold muttered, sarcastically. Cody gives him a playful scowl for messing with him.

"Yeh, but the fact that he's always on his own?" Cody asked, feeling a bit bad for the guy. Harold and Ezekiel nodded in agreement Everyone turns to Noah, who's reading a comic about Superman.

"We should, like, talk to him, eh. See if he wants to hang out with us." Ezekiel added. Cody shakes his head in response.

"I wasn't saying we should talk to him. I just..." Cody muttered, trying to explain but Ezekiel cuts in.

"No, I meant that it'd be awesome. Think about it: if he was our friend, no one would ever mess with us again, eh." Ezekiel explained, talking sense to the guys. Cody and Harold thinks at the idea, then they consider it as a great idea. Harold nods over towards Noah.

"Well, go on then, Ezekiel. You wanna go?" Harold asked, gesturing him to go talk to him. Ezekiel quickly shook his head in response and points at Cody.

"No, no. Nuh-uh. Cody should go." Ezekiel suggested. Harold nodded in agreement. They both gestured him to go talk to Noah. Cody was off guard.

"What, why? I just said I felt sorry- Aw shit, okay fine. I'll go, you cowards." Cody muttered, getting up from the table. He makes his way over to the register, where Noah is now in line. Nearby, Chef pretends to read a comic. Noah sees Cody approaching and cracks a small smile. Cody smiles back with an awkward wave. Chef glances up from his comic and steps in front of Cody to block his way.

"Fuck off." Chef threats, with a massive tone. Cody hesitated and didn't need to ask twice. He hurries away from the scary moment. From Noah's point of view, he watches Cody return to his friends and re-enact the encounter. The three of them were bursting into laughter.

**Meanwhile...Oh, Wait. I Already Said That...**

Around a Dodgy Street, Day:

Cody and Ezekiel are walking home, carrying their bags of new comics. They're both having a mid-conversation.

"You're not making any sense." Cody said, getting confused.

"What I'm saying is the centrifugal force of Batman's batarang would undoubtedly penetrate the Joker's force field leaving him totally vulnerable to the-." Ezekiel informed, then out of nowhere, Two Gang members block their path. Cody and Ezekiel stop at their tracks, hesitating. The bigger gang kid holds out his hand matter-in-factly.

"Pussy patrol. Phones. Money. Now." The Bigger kid demanded. Ezekiel sighed in frustration.

"Aw man, not again." Ezekiel muttered, annoyed. Cody instantly hands over his phone and cash, nervous as hell. Ezekiel just hands them his cash. The Gang members were waiting for him to hand over his phone.

"Phone." First Gang demanded.

"I don't have one. Some other asshole jacked it last week." Ezekiel muttered, glaring at them. Both of the gang member rolled their eyes. One of them glances at the bags their holding.

"Gimme the bag, punk." First Gang demanded.

"It's just comics." Ezekiel muttered, clutching at his bag. The Second Gang gives him a deadly glare.

"Yo, you wanna get cut?" Second Gang threats, reaching for his pocket knife. Ezekiel reluctantly hands over the bag of comics. Cody was glancing at a building. Ezekiel and the gang members follows Cody's gaze. They a see a man looking out the window, watching the robbery and not bothering to call the police. He hesitatingly shuts the curtains close.

'_Look at this asshole just watching..._'

The Gang members chuckles and walk away casually, leaving poor defenseless Cody and Ezekiel alone, shaken and angry.

'_Come on, be honest with yourself. Would you do anything differently?_'

**Later...**

Inside Cody's House, Room, Night:

Cody was sitting at his laptop, searching something at a website call Scubastore. He clicks at 'Add To Cart' for a green wet-suit constume and a green ski mask. Cody smiles proudly for what he's about to become...a hero.

'_We see someone in trouble and we wish we could help, but we don't. The world I lived in, heroes only existed in comic books. And I guess that would have been okay if bad guys were make-believe, too...But they're not..._'

**To Be Continue...After you Review**


	2. Chapter 2: Mysterious Vigilante

**TOONSTER9's QUOTE: **_It's been a while huh? Life is hard but I really want to apologize for my absent. Anyway I'm gonna give this story one more chance before deciding to delete it. Hopefully I get positive reviews or notes SO I CAN CONTINUE! Enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 2: Mysterious Vigilante<strong>

Inside a Warehouse, Night:

A low-life criminal name Tre Fernandez (30's, unlikely to join his local neighborhood watch scheme any time soon) is tied to a chair, his fingers in a pair of heavy-duty Bolt-Cutters held by a Huge Goon. Several other goons surround him- let's call them Hush, Scar, Sporty, Ray and Posh.

And there's Chris McClain D'Amico (40's, handsome, tall, lean, immaculately dressed man) and his right-hand man, Alejandro. By the looks of Chris' better-expensive suit, he's in charge. The type of guy who runs the business and no one can fuck with it. The boss of all criminals that are wrecking the city of New York. Tre is terrified to look into Chris' cold eyes. He is perturbed by his capricious behavior.

"McClain...Chris, I'm telling you, man. I swear I'm not making this up. This fucking guy... Comes outta nowhere-" Tre tries to explain but Chris cuts in.

"This would be the guy who looks like Batman." Chris guessed, mordantly. Tre got flabbergasted and annoyed by his response. He shakes his head in disagreement.

"I didn't say he looked like Batman." Tre argued, irritated. All the Goons rolled their eyes, not believing his words. Chris lights up a cigarette in his mouth with his zippo lighter. Everyone studies him.

"You did, you said the guy looked like Batman." Huge Goon feigned

"He said, like, a black mask and stuff." Another Goon said.

"And a cape." Huge Goon added. Alejandro stares at Tre with an amused smirk.

"Like Batman." Alejandro said. Tre rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

"I didn't say 'like Batman.' I never said 'Batman'." Tre groans, vexed. Chris waves off the annoying remark.

"So this guy, he comes in, outta nowhere." Chris brings back the subject, imperturbably. Tre nodded with a beat expression.

"Right. Outta nowhere. Beat us up real bad." Tre explained, feeling perilous.

"And this is who killed Johnny..." Chris continues. Tre nodded, relief that Chris understands.

"Right. And my two guys." Tre added. Chris shoots him a unruffled look.

"...And jacked my coke?" Chris ended, wondering. Tre gaped at him for a few seconds and looks down at the floor, starting to sweat. Chris puffs out a ball of smoke as he waits for his answer.

"Well...um...he didn't exactly jack it." Tre stammered, hesitatingly. Everyone in the room quirks an eyebrow and exchange a look to each other, all wondering what he meant by that.

**Flashback...**

Inside a Scuzzy 2nd Floor Apartment, Night:

A hyper-stylized fantasy past. Tre lies on the floor with gusher of a nosebleed, clutching a Bag of Cocaine. Two dead Cronies lie nearby with their dead eyes opened. The last man standing is Johnnie (clearly the muscle).

Tre watches in dismay as the even-bigger Superhero steps behind Johnnie and **_SLICED!_** his throat with a hunting knife. Blood squirts out of his neck like a sprinkler from your backyard. He drops to the ground, obviously dead.

The vicious Superhero turns to Tre, who throws the bag of cocaine into his face, bolts for the open window and jumps out, head first. The masked man, his black costume now covered in coke, watches out the window as Tre limps away for his life. The masked man rolled his eyes and brushes the coke off of him with his hands.

**Back To The Present...**

Chris fixes Tre with an impassive look. Alejandro snickers at the story while others chuckle. Chris turns to them, which made all the goons stop laughing. Chris slowly turns back to Tre, giving him the look of a serial killer.

"And this guy...This guy who killed everyone else, he doesn't bother to follow you. Because?" Chris asked, amazed that the vigilante spared his life. Tre shoots him a clueless look and shrugged his shoulders.

"Because, I don't know. I swear Chris, I'm just telling you what happened." Tre explained with a gulp. Chris runs a hand through his hair and gives a sigh, getting frustrated.

"Okay. Let me explain the problem I got here, Tre. Our mole with the Russians tells it a bit different." Chris begins, which made Tre inquisitively listen.

**Another Flashback...**

Inside a Swanky Apartment, Night:

Yep, another stylized fantasy past. A Tall Russian shows Tre a briefcase full of cash. a group of Russian Hoods look on. Tre smirks, nods his approval and the tall Russian clicks the case shut and hands it over, in exchange for a large bag of coke. This proves that he's completely making a deal with the enemy...case closed.

**Back to the Present...Again**

Chris finished his story which we tight on Tre's reaction. This was a predicament situation between different stories. And everyone in the building knows that Chris is right. They think that Tre is playing lying to them and it didn't work.

"You're kidding me?" Tre muttered, angrily and disbelief. Chris glares at him and points at the bolt cutters.

"Does it look to you like I'm kidding?" Chris hissed, holding the urge to tell the Goon to cut the finger already. Alejandro gives devastated grin at Tre, pleased that he's in big trouble.

"Our guys said you gave them Russians a pretty sweet deal." Alejandro added, smoothly. Tre angrily groans for their point of view, but deep down, he knows he's busted.

"It's a fucking lie, man! I can't believe you believe this shit from a fucking Russian, man!" Tre agrued, panting. Chris waves off his complaining and stares at him serious.

"Let's see, Tre. What's more likely? You're a little greedy little backstabber, or my coke is missing because it wound up all over Superman's face." Chris snarled, making a point. Alejandro clears his throat, getting Chris' attention.

"Ahem, um, it's Batman." Alejandro corrected. Chris turns to him with a questioning look.

"What?" Chris asked, misheard.

"Batman's face." Huge Goon answered, which made Tre shoot angry daggers at everyone in the room.

"I never said Batman!" Tre angrily shouts. Chris narrowed his eyes and rubs his temples with his hands. He angrily drops his cigarette to the floor and ground it out with the sole of his expensive dressed shoe.

"Okay, enough! My son's in the car, waiting to go to the movies and I ain't gonna disappoint him. Alejandro, you're in charge." Chris said, snapping his fingers as he turns to go.

Alejandro nodded with a evil grin. He gestures the Goon to do his work. The Huge Goon **_SNIPS! _**the bolt-cutters closed, cutting the finger off of Tre's. He screams as he feels the agonizing pain.

Outside the Warehouse, we can still hear the distant screams as Chris, shadowed by Chef, climbs into the back of the waiting Merc vehicle. He gets in besides his son, Noah, who looks bored as hell. Chef sits in the front. Chris turns to his son and gives a sheepishly smile.

"Sorry you had to wait, buddy." Chris said, sounding less than caring. Noah rolled his eyes and shoots him a repulsive expression.

"I coulda waited inside. I'm sick of being treated like a kid." Noah muttered, abhorrently. Chris glowers at him, not in the mood to hear his complaints.

"We're not having this conversation again, Noah. Where's the driver?" Chris asked, wondering why the ignition isn't starting.

"Restroom." Chef answered, which made Chris scoff in annoyance.

"The movie's starting in, like, 10 mintues." Noah complained, impatiently. They can still hear screaming coming from inside the warehouse, studiously ignored by everyone in the car. Chris stares down at his golden Rolex Watch that is strapped to his wrist.

"We're cool. It's okay. We're only gonna miss the trailers." Chris assured, brightening things up. Noah pursed his lips and stares at his father with narrow eyes.

"Yeah, but I wanted to, you know, get popcorn." Noah said, stubbornly. Chris couldn't take his son's whining, so he turns to his bodyguard, Chef.

"When we get there, get Noah some popcorn and nachos, okay? And bring it in. What do you wanna drink, Pepsi? " Chris asked as he turns back his son. Noah nods grudgingly, looking out the window instead of his father. Chris ignores his behavior and turns back to Chef. The screaming continues, escalates.

"You got it, boss." Chef accorded with a nod.

"And I'll have an Icee. Mixed. Like, when they mix the red one and the blue one? Mixed." Chris said, thinking of another thing to order. The driver gets in and turns the ignition on. _**BANG! BANG!**_ From inside the warehouse, they hear two gunshots which made the scream end. Everyone but Chris flinches at the sound. Nobody mentions it. Everyone acted like nothing happened. They drive away from the warehouse.

"...And a pack of Skittles." Chris added, with a smile.

**Taste The Rainbow...**

Outside The Movie Theatre, Night:

The limo pulls up outside the theatre. Chris, Noah and Chef stepped out of the vehicle and walk towards the movies. A few people line up for tickets as a huge tide of others flood out. Among them, an elated Cody, Harold and Ezekiel are talking excitedly about the movie they've just seen.

_'The comic-book had it wrong. It didn't take a trauma, or cosmic rays or a power ring to make a superhero.'_

**You Got Mail...**

Inside Cody's House, Bedroom, Same Night:

Cody enters his room and pauses as he sees a package on his bed. He smiles at his arrived UPS package. He undresses quick and excitedly. In his underpants, he really looks like just a little kid. He opens the package and pulls out: a Wet-Suit and a Ski Mask.

He tries to pull them on, despite of them being all tight. He trips on the floor as he struggles to zip up his costume. He gets up, puts on his mask and looks in the mirror. He place his fists on his hips and stands there for a while. Cody grins at himself, having the feeling of reverential mixed with amazement or wonder.

"You are fucking awesome." Cody said to himself, in awe. He strikes a superhero pose, throws a few terrible martial arts moves. He's really enjoying himself right on this moment. He smirks at himself in the mirror and throws a kiss.

_'...Just the perfect combination of optimism and naivety.'_

**The Next Day...**

Around the Industrial Wasteland, Morning:

Meet Courtney Hills, 20's, curved tan body. She wears a cutoff jeans to show off her slender legs. A white halter top with a paddle jacket and a intense frown on her face. She crosses her arms and shoots out an angry huff.

"I don't want to do this, Duncan." Courtney said in the millionth times, not looking at him. Her husband, she calls Duncan, 30's, is big and ripped and has a killer green neon Mohawk. He wears a black leather jacket, leather riding pants, and heavy clean boots. He looks bad-ass. But he speaks softly to his stubborn wife.

"C'mon Courtney, honey. You should get used to this already. Nothin' to be afraid of." Duncan assured. Courtney looks back to take in Duncan's full towering height. In his hand is a Colt 1911 Pistol. He loads the magazine clip as he looks at her, sweetly. Courtney rolled her eyes and pushes a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Is not that I'm afraid...I just hate when it hurts." Courtney complained. Duncan sighed and decided to off her pout.

"Only for a second, babe. We both know that a handgun bullet goes more than 700 miles an hour, so at close range like this, the force is gonna take you right off your feet, for sure. But it's really no more painful than a punch in the boob. Okay?" Duncan asked, fitting the fresh magazine clip into the pistol. Courtney gulped and shook her head.

"No! I hate getting punched in the boob!" Courtney spat, stomping a foot down in anger. Duncan releases the slide of the gun, takes the safety off and aims it at her.

"You'll be fine, princess." Duncan added. Before Courtney can protest, he fires off a round. _**BANG!**_ The bullet hits her square in the chest. She flies through the air, landing on her back a couple of feet, giving a quick yelp. Duncan walks up to her and blows the smoke off his barrel.

"Not so bad, huh?" Duncan asked, looking down at her.

"Says you." Courtney grunted. She sits up stiffly and shrugs at him with a annoyed glare on her face. Then she unzips her jackets and lift up her halter top to study the Kevlar Vest underneath. She pokes her finger into the little dent left by the bullet, .

"Now you know that it feels like a punch, you won't be scared when some junkie asshole pulls a glock." Duncan pointed out. Courtney would've keep her glare if she weren't too proud for taking a bullet.

"I wouldn't have been scared anyway." Courtney responded, still poking the dent. Duncan guffaws softly, helping her get on her feet.

"That's my girl." Duncan commented, as he moved closer to her pulling her in for a kiss which she lovingly accepted. The way we see it, they seem like a happy couple...a couple that likes to shoot each other for practice if I can add. Duncan finally pulled away and smirks at her.

"Couple more rounds, then we go to brunch." Duncan demanded, walking back to his spot from earlier. Courtney's face drops into a shock expression.

"Again?" Courtney asked, off-guard. Duncan turns to face her and nodded as he pulls the hammer down.

"Uh-huh." Duncan hummed out, gripping the handle. Courtney frowned and sighed in defeat.

"Look, only if you let me choose a restaurant. Like the River Cafe." Courtney negotiated, crossing her arms. Duncan blinks a few times before responding.

"The one in Brooklyn?" Duncan asked, now realizing that she wants an expensive brunch. Courtney nodded with a smirk, noticing the look on her husband's face.

"Yeah. And ice cream for dessert." Courtney added. Duncan taps a finger on his chin in thought.

"Hmm. Okay. Two more rounds. No wincing, no whining and you got yourself a deal, babe." Duncan said, giving her a smile of acceptance. She jumps in excitement, arms outstretched.

"Yes! I'm gonna get a chocolate fudge sundae." Courtney acclaimed, happily. Duncan chuckles and leveled the the pistol at her again.

"Good call, baby doll!" Duncan added as he cracks off another round. _**BAM!**_

**What The...?**

Inside Cody's House, Bedroom, Same Morning:

Cody, wearing his costume, slips up his jeans and puts on a long-sleeved tee over the top. He looks at himself into the mirror, grabs his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and leaves the room.

_'A genuine thrill was wearing it under my school clothes.'_

Later, Inside The Classroom:

It was just another school day day in class where the teacher, Mrs. Zane had stepped out for a few minutes giving her students instructions to study for the upcoming quiz. She writes the instructions on her whiteboard, but Cody isn't watching. He's writes in his book, fingering the collar of his costume under his shirt, a sly smile playing on his lips.

_'I know it's an ancient superhero tradition, but you can't appreciate how exciting it is until you've sat through a English class smirking at your own slyness.'_

In Cody's notebook are several heroic doodles of himself in costume, and some hero names: Night Walker, Bad Night, Dark Watcher, Ass-Kicker, Bad Ass, The Green Knight. Then he writes down: Kick-Ass. Then a bunch of question marks. He taps his pencil on his chin in thought, not sure if the name suits him.

_'Times like this were spent coming up with cool superhero names and, for a short while, this was enough.'_

Later in the Highschool Gym, Cody pumps iron with 6 and half weights. He does a few pumps and he's already sweating like a pig. He drops the irons and breaths heavily. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and catches sight of his reflection in it's tiny surface. He poses, flexing his still-tiny pecs. All the buff guys roll their eyes for having a skinny little nerd in the gym.

_'If my friends wondered what the fuck was going on with me, they never mentioned it.'_

**Meanwhile...**

Inside the River Cafe, Brooklyn, Still Morning:

Courtney is there with Duncan, scoffing a small core sundae. Fudge sauce drips onto her dinner napkin that is tucked into her collar. She looks down to make sure it didn't go to her shirt and notices the five bullet holes.

"Duncan, look." Courtney called, pointing at the bullet holes. Duncan looks up from his plate and stares at the holes in amazement. He wipes his mouth with his napkin.

"I know, I see it. Good job! Hey, you had any more thoughts on what you want for protection?" Duncan asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Courtney ponders as she stuffs a spoon full of ice cream into her mouth.

"Mmmm. Can I get a puppy?" Courtney answered, casually. Duncan almost choked on his coffee, surprised for what his wife responded. He gaped at her with wide eyes for a few seconds, studying her to see if she's serious.

"A...puppy? Like, a d-dog?" Duncan stammered, having a hard time to keep a straight face. Courtney nodded, licking the ice cream off her lips.

"Yeah. A cuddly little Golden Retriever. They can be very protective. Oh and you have to clean after it." Courtney added, looking him with a serious expression. Duncan was speechless. He looks like he's about to have a seizure. Courtney couldn't hold the urge anymore. She practically spits ice cream everywhere as she bursts into giggles. Duncan arched an eyebrow, having a small realization that it's all a joke.

"I'm just fucking with you, Dunky. Look, I'd love a Benchmade model-42 butterfly knife. That's something I can carry with me whenever I need it." Courtney pointed out, wiping the tear of laughter off her eye. Duncan joins in the laughter, relieved that it was all a prank from her after all.

"Jesus, Courtney. You really got me, heh. Good weapon of choice though." Duncan commented, impressed that his woman can make him off-guard. They continue to enjoy eating their brunch. A waitress comes by, pouring him some more coffee. The couple thanked her as she turns to leave.

**A Few Weeks Later...**

Somewhere In The City Rooftops, Day:

Cody, in his costume, carefully treads to the edge of the roof and looks down. A numerous filthy trash bags and unwrapped garbage gathered on the alleyway below. But that wasn't what he was seeing...it's the height. Not that he's afraid of heights, he just doesn't want to fall down and cause mildly injury...or death.

_'I'll be honest, there wasn't a whole lotta crime fighting in those few weeks. But even so my new vocation kept me plenty busy.'_

He reaches the corner and looks across to the next rooftop. He glances down one more time into the narrow alleyway separating the two rooftops. He's tries to measure the distances with his two thumbs.

Later, he's now in the alley he looked down into before. Cody checks his surroundings, just to make sure he's not being watched, then he runs a tape measure between the brick walls. He puts the tape measure away and glance upwards to the roof of the two buildings. He sighs and started searching for any materials to test his activity.

Later, back on the rooftop from where he was earlier, Cody placed two pieces of wood that distance apart. He takes a moment to regain his energy. Cody cracks his neck and stretches every bit of his body.

_'Like there was a lot of posing on the roof and balancing on walls as I got used to the wet suit.'_

By the looks of how he stretches, I don't think he ever took to his P.E classes. Cody was set and prepares to start his training. He quickly gages distances, and then runs up to the first, making a not-so-spectacular leap...lands nowhere near the second. He drops his shoulders in disappointment.

"...Shit." Cody muttered, going back to his spot.

_'I called it preparation.'_

Cody, back at hit long-jump, makes several more unsuccessful attempts before he finally lands clear of his target. Time passes. Close on his feet as we see his subsequent landings past the second piece of timber, getting further and further away. Cody sigh, moves the timber pieces aside and walks back to his spot again. He turns and takes a deep breath.

_'But if you called it fantasizing, it woulda been hard to argue. All I knew was I'd never felt so good about myself.'_

Finally, he takes a run up and he is now going for the real thing. He runs faster and faster, giving it all the speed he's got. He reaches the edge of the roof, he's going to do it!...Oh wait. He brakes and stops, exclaiming in fear. Almost falling off the edge, he falls back, holding his balance.

"Fuck this!" Cody panted, taking a step back away from the edge.

_'Okay, maybe I was still in the beta-testing phase, but it was a start.'_

**One Hour Later...**

Somewhere in a Dodgy Street, Still Day:

At a junction, Cody wheels his bike beside Harold and Ezekiel, all carrying bags from the comic store. They all chat up while they ride. This is where they part company. Cody mounts up, waves goodbye to his nerdy friends and rides off to his separate way.

He rides on, down the same shitty street he's been earlier. Then he brakes to a stop, bike-wheels screeching the ground. He froze to a full hesitation. He's sees a parking lot nearby, two boys skulk by an older model vehicle. The guys who mugged Cody and Ezekiel.

They made sure no-one's watching. One pulls out a screwdriver, kneels down and expertly unscrews the license plates. He looks up and catches Cody staring at them. The other follow his friend's gaze and glares at the intruder.

Cody quickly looks away and starts pedaling again with his head down, showing them that he didn't see anything. But his speed gradually slows until, at the next alleyway, he stops with a pondering look on his face.

_'Like every serial killer already knew, eventually fantasizing just doesn't do it for you anymore. It was time to engage.'_

In the back alley, Cody chains his bike to a fire-escape and walks back where the muggers are. He tears open his shirt, revealing his green costume underneath. Feeling just like Clark Kent in a phone booth. This. Is. It.

Back to the parking lot, the midday sun beats down on a maze of cars. The first gang kid has his screwdriver wedged under the window rubber and is prying it off while his friend loiters nearby, smoking a joint and keeping a lookout.

"Hurry up, dude." The second gang kid said, impatiently. He turns and pauses, utterly bewildered, at the sight of a green masked figure: Cody. He frowns in confusion, looking at the costume he's wearing.

"What...the...hell?" The second gang kid muttered, which caught his friend's attention to witness the same view. Cody is walking towards them in his full, costumed splendor. The second gang kid burst into laughter, hysterically. The other gang kid shakes his head in disgust.

"The fuck are you looking at?" The first gang kid spat. Cody hesitated again, stopping at his own track. They start to walk towards him, shooting him with cold eyes. Cody tries to steady his balance, seeming to be swayed in jittery. The first gang kid was waiting for his response.

"I said what are you looking at?" The first gang asked again, irritated. Cody shakes off his nervous-scared-side into self-dignity and nonchalant mode. He exhales and continues walking towards the two gang members with a casual expression.

"Two cheapshit losers screwing with a car that somebody probably worked their ass off to pay for." Cody retorted, fearlessly. Two of the gang kids exchanged odd looks to each other before turning back to the masked creep.

"Say what?" The first gang kid snarled, with a hint of anger and confusion in his tone. The second gang kid shook his head and taps his friend on the shoulder to get his attention. He looks over his shoulder.

"Let it be, man. This kid is obviously high." The second kid explained, finding it odd to see a skinny boy in a costume making his moment in hazard. Cody stops at his track, inches away from them. They stand a foot taller than him.

"I'm not high. I just think it suck balls that you think you can do whatever you want. Walk away from the car...and we won't have a problem." Cody said calmly but also menacingly. The gang kids shared an confused look before they could respond. Then without warning, the first gang kid steps up and **_PUNCHES!_** Cody in the face.

He reels from the pain. But now they see that, behind his back, he has a piece of lead pipe for a weapon. Cody glares and swings his lead pipe to one of them. He **_CRACKS!_** it over the first kid's head.

The gang kid groans in pain and goes down, the screwdriver flying from his hand. Cody stands there in a beat, amazed that he fought back. Then the second gang kid sets on Cody, giving him a cheap shot. The pipe gives Cody an initial advantage. He tries to maintain his balance and coldcocks the second kid with one hard **_PUNCH!_**. Taking the surprise hit, he goes down to the ground.

Cody stares down at him, oblivious that the first gang kid is up again. He comes up from behind Cody and surprisingly punched him in the face. Cody falls down to the ground, moaning in pain. The second gets up, rubbing his aching cheek.

"Screw this, man! Let's beat the crap out of him!" The first gang kid growl, angrily. They both end up giving him a gang beating of two against one, followed by a barrage of deadly fists and kicks to his knees and ribs. From a far distance they hear the sound of police sirens coming their way which caught their attention. Then in fear of being thrown behind bars, they quickly decided to disperse.

"Come on, let's go." The second gang kids said, trying to drag his friend. But the first gang kid gives Cody one last hard **_KICK!_** to the ribs before rushing off with his buddy. They bailed, leaving a mess of poor superboy picking himself up.

Cody coughed painfully as he tried to stand on his feet but he failed. He gets up again with more force, spitting out the red liquid of blood out of his mouth with a grimace. He's weak, damaged and exhausted.

He picks up his lead pipe and staggers off the parking lot, breathing heavily. He stumbles into the road as a car approaches. The green suited hero tries to flag it, but the alarmed female driver accelerated past him, staring at him oddly as she drives off. Cody turns in disbelief to watch the car disappear into the distance...failing to see a second car speed towards him. **_CRASH!_**

It ploughs into him, sending him flying like rag-doll. He drops to the ground hard. The car slows and a terrified businessman stares out to see who he ran over. He sees Cody in a pool of blood, not dead but fucked up. He's out cold, his legs and pelvis are grotesquely twisted, his costume covered in blood.

The driver is in serious shit, picturing himself in prison surrounded by hardcore convicts. He looks around his surroundings, seeing if there are any witnesses...nope. In a panic, the businessman speeds away, leaving poor Cody to die on the ground. Hit and Run...messed up.

A few minutes later, inside an ambulance the sirens are wailing. A medic is cutting off Cody's costume. The medic shouts up to the driver.

"Back and responsive! Easy, pal. Take it easy. Don't try to move." The medic told Cody, softly. He's in a neck brace, an oxygen mask on his face. Cody breaths slowly before he could force himself to respond.

"My d-dad is gonna k-kill me." Cody stammered in agony. The medic sticks IVs into his arm and patted him on the leg for comfort.

"He's gonna be happy you're alive." The Medic pointed out with a smile. Cody shakes his head, trying to stay conscious for a little while before passing out.

"I n-need a favor. Please? Don't tell a-anybody about the costume?" Cody begged, wincing at the IVs in his arm. The Medic nodded with smile of promise.

"You got it." The Medic responded. He deposits the shredded costume in the medical waste receptacle. Cody smiles with relief. Then his eyes roll back, drifting off to unconscious. The Medic notices and turns to the driver.

"We're losing him again." He shouted, grabbing the heart paddles.


End file.
